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the ground.  The two gunmen started kicking the man with their heavy boots, the family crying. 
    The mother threw herself at one of the gunmen.  He backhanded her away. 
    Elena’s scream cut through the air. 
    Anger and fear warred for control in Laney.  She burst from the tree line, Jen at her side. 
    One of the mercenaries turned, his gun raised.  Laney didn't even break her stride.  Two shots, dead center. The other gunman dove away from his comrade. 
    In Spanish, Laney yelled to the family.  “Run to the trees!  Run!”
    The family scurried out of sight as she continued to take shots at the spot where the other mercenary had found cover.  Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Jen’s long-legged stride eating up the distance before she disappeared into the doorway. 
    The second mercenary returned fire.  Diving behind an empty oil drum, she waited for the pause between shots and leapt up.  The man aimed for her, but she was faster.  Her bullet burrowed through his forehead.
    She stepped from behind the drum, her gun extended in front of her.  A fist slammed down on her arm. 
    Pain charged through her arm and she dropped it.  Shoved forward, she slammed into the drum and rolled over it, landing on the ground.  Her uncle’s voice rang through her head.  Always check your six .
    A mountain of a man stalked towards her.  His hair was dark, his skin pock-marked.  A wicked serrated knife in his hand led his way.
    He loomed over her and spoke without any trace of a South American accent.  In fact, he sounded like he was from Jersey.  “Bitch with a gun.  Let’s see how you do without it.”
    Laney’s boot slammed into side of the man’s knee.  He stumbled and lurched to his right to compensate.  She rolled onto her right hip, kicked at his other leg.  Her next kick got him in the face.  He crashed to the ground. 
    Bringing up her left boot, she drove her heel into his chin and then changing her angle, brought it down into the middle of his face.  Blood exploded from his nose. 
    She brought her heel down again and again and again, onto his neck, his chest and finally his groin.  Rolling to her feet, she snatched his knife from where it had fallen.  He lay curled in the fetal position, moaning. 
    She leaned down.  “This bitch does just fine without a gun.”
    Pushing herself back from the body, she tucked his knife into her belt and grabbed her Glock.  She ran for the hut, reaching it just as Jen stepped out, Elena cradled protectively in her arms. 
    Laney glanced back through the doorway.  The man who’d grabbed Elena was lying spread eagle, a knife protruding from his chest.
    “Good?”
    Jen nodded.  “Good.  The family?”
    “Escaped into the woods.”  Laney reached out to stroke Elena’s hair. 
    Elena looked up at her, her eyes as big as saucers.  “Nana?”
    “I don’t know, sweetheart,” Laney said.  “But we’ll find her.”
    Elena nodded before closing her eyes.  Laney met Jen’s eyes.  They hadn’t been able to tell if one of the bodies in front of the community hut had been Nana.  Laney prayed it hadn’t been.
    “We need to move.  We’re lucky my gun exchange didn’t draw them,” Laney said.
    Jen started towards the trees.  “They probably just thought it was their own men having fun.”
    Laney nodded, knowing she was probably right.  She trailed behind Jen as they headed for the tree line, her eyes darting between the trees ahead and the village behind.  She slipped into the trees behind Jen, knowing Jen was avoiding the main path.  They would take a back trail that led from the village to the church.
    Laney quickly overtook Jen and Elena once on the path.  She'd lead the way in case any of the mercenaries had made their way into the forest.   
    Laney was hyper-aware now.  Every snap of a twig had her imagining gunmen hidden in the trees.  Who was targeting these villagers?  The village was poor.  They had nothing of value.